


Something so precious about this

by neonpinkdragon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Lives, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Gay Billy Hargrove, Homophobic Language, It's a long way to the top if you like lipstick, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonpinkdragon/pseuds/neonpinkdragon
Summary: One day, his vanity in their tiny cramped up apartment holds only his cologne and the odd pieces of jewelry he managed to collect through the years. And then, suddenly, bringing him to the verge of a heart attack, there's an honest to god pink caboodle sitting where, only yesterday, was his dusty bottle of hairspray and a hair teasing comb. It's off to the corner by the mirror, like it has always been there in this very space, and like it isn't the earth-shattering revelation that Steve has seen right through him.-Billy can't really bring himself to admit he'd like to explore his femininity, Steve tries to solve this by secretly buying a pink caboodle.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115





	Something so precious about this

**Author's Note:**

> HI!
> 
> This is the first fic I've ever published in my life, so if you could please be gentle with me, I'd appreciate it very much.
> 
> Not a single line of this story would have been possible without the support of the beautiful [@elegantwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantwings/pseuds/elegantwings) who has had the dubious privilege of listening to me talk about boys wearing red lipstick for the past 9 years. He also kindly accepted to be my beta, so you see how I'd be lost without him.
> 
> Gender issues are explored very superficially in this story, I obviously wouldn't want to misrepresent or offend anyone, so if anything can be perceived as not okay please tell me and I'll do my best to address it. Being real, though, I just love the visual of Billy with lipstick on and that's pretty much it. 
> 
> Title is from From Eden by Hozier, because I'm nothing if not predictable.

One day, his vanity in their tiny cramped up apartment holds only his cologne and the odd pieces of jewelry he managed to collect through the years. And then, suddenly, bringing him to the verge of a heart attack, there's an honest to god pink caboodle sitting where, only yesterday, was his dusty bottle of hairspray and a hair teasing comb. It's off to the corner by the mirror, like it has always been there in this very space, and like it isn't the earth-shattering revelation that Steve has seen right through him.

If this goddamn caboodle is here, it means Steve knows. It means he noticed and cared enough to do something about it. Billy doesn't know what to do with any of it.

He wants to die, break all the furniture and haunt Steve until the end of his days. What he does, instead, is open the thing.

-

When they first make the drive back to California, Billy buys three things. They have to stop for gas in this dilapidated station in the ass-end of America, and even with less money and possessions than he's ever had in his life, Billy has never felt so rich. Lucky, even, walking around the aisles of the convenience store and trying on cheap sunglasses while posing to a smiling Steve Harrington, who didn't hesitate one moment when Billy said _I kinda want to see the sea again_. 

So with the last of his money, Billy buys the following: a Zeppelin tape, bubblegum soda, and, for the hell of it, a pink scrunchie with flowers all over. Cause he has hair, and he can. Back inside the car, he puts his hair on a high pony, looks at Steve, and only gets a careful peck and _you look great_ for his trouble.

He fast-forwards the tape until Going to California comes on, and smiles. Listens to Robert Plant tell him _there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair_ , looks at Steve, and thinks, yeah.

-

California is, well, not exactly great, it's the 80s, Reagan is fucking president, he had an interdimensional monster in his body, and sometimes he can't sleep for weeks. But it's better. So much better. Better than his wildest dreams. 

He has friends, friends who get him, who get Steve. Love that he's goofy and treats Billy well. Friends who take them both out to the right clubs, holler at them if they're not holding hands, ask them to make out a little, because what's the use being so pretty together and not giving them a show.

They lose some of those friends; sometimes, life seems like a barrage of grief. Billy gets a decent amount of hush money from Uncle Sam for his still being alive problem, spends it all on funerals, on trying to keep more friends on this side of the line too. Doesn't know if it's helpful or not, is too angry to do anything else but try.

Robin manages a full ride to UCLA, so she spends some weekends with them, fits right in. Walks around hollering with their friends, grieving with them, calling Steve and Billy good for nothing shitheads. Being a balm to their weary souls with her girl problems and asshole film school teachers.

They still manage to laugh, they create a community. They find jobs at places where they don't have to hide, where his boss asks when his boy is picking him up and gives him the day off when he accidentally says it's their anniversary.

-

The problem Billy has is the following: Steve is too fucking observant. That boy sees everything Billy has worked so hard to keep hidden. Just comes barreling through all of his defenses, doesn't have enough sense to leave well enough alone. It's endearing, it's a pain in his fucking ass.

It begins when he wakes up high out of his mind from what should have been his death and Steve's sitting right there beside his bed. Bags under his eyes and an honest to God Stephen King paperback open in his hands. Billy can only say what he's thinking, which is, "Christ, Harrington, haven't we lived through enough of this bullshit?". 

Steve only shrugs and answers, "thought I'd catch up on what might happen to you." Shakes the book in his face, and Billy finally makes out it's Pet Sematary. Tries to laugh and hurts all over. Steve is holding his hand in an instant, telling him to take it easy.

For the third time, he wonders what Steve is even doing there, asks as much. Steve says, "Well, when you're visiting the guy who saved everyone's lives and he wakes up for a sec just to tell you, "don't go, pretty boy," you have to stay." Like it's that easy.

But Billy has been torn beyond belief, always had one monster or another twisting his insides. Can't really accept a good thing that doesn't come with a catch. Tries to get Steve to leave, first with nice words and then, when that doesn't work, with ones that cost him the last dredges of humanity he has left.

Steve stays put, though. Through all the long weeks Billy spends trying to get used to _being_ again. Says Billy won't get rid of him this easily, not when he just got him back. Takes the biggest risk of their entire lives, kisses his cheek. Then, he wipes Billy's tears when they come. It's a whole embarrassing thing.

What isn't in Billy's ridiculous life? He still gets the boy.

-

His problem is that since he moved back to California, he got too comfortable with being uncomfortable. He can't hide behind baggy clothing like he did in Indiana, but he's not about to show just any motherfucker out there where he's hurt. He doesn't want to invite questions.

He toes the line. Booty shorts and scrunchies all over their home. Steve yelling for the tenth time, Billy is going to kill him when he almost brains himself slipping on the scrunchy forgotten at the bottom of their tub. He has a lot of hair and shows a little bit of skin, these two things, along with his scant rings and bracelets, they should be enough.

But he's still greedy, he finds, he's still too much himself. Which is a blessing and a curse when you're in love with someone who gives a shit, who's just too nice for their own good. Which is a blessing when he thought he'd never feel like himself again, a curse when he still feels so foreign to his own body, sometimes.

So, when he's fighting with Max over the phone again, he doesn't really pay attention that Steve is paying attention. He's saying, "Maxine, for the final fucking time, I don't want you to send my old clothes, no, not even the crop tops, why the fuck do you even still have my things," and finally glancing at Steve as if to say _can you fucking believe this shit for brains_. "No, I will not pass you to Steve, and you can burn that stuff, throw it all away, I don't give a fuck."

He hangs up with finality, his heart fluttering. Steve, to his surprise, seems to be interested.

Days after, out of nowhere, Steve asks why Max would mention the crop tops, asks _are you sure you don't want them?_ Billy can only gesture at his chest and stare at Steve incredulously. Thinks he made his point, expects that to be the end of it. 

From then on, though, he has Steve's undivided attention right where it makes him panic. Because one of his habits, now that he's back on the west coast, is to look. Now that he's allowed to, knows he won't be judged. He looks at other bodies, looks at the happy people covered in glitter, very little clothing and the joy to be alive. Looks at the girls with nice earrings, bleached Madonna hair and blood red lipstick. Looks at the boys with beautiful jewelry, crop tops and eyeshadow. Looks at the boys who, for a moment, look like amazons, power walking in their heels and shimmering clothes. And he can't deny it, he's always wanted it.

Steve's attention. Shiny things. All of it.

-

The thing is, Steve has always spoiled those he loves. He's a boy who always had too much and not enough of what he really wanted. He's easy with kind words, terrible with his feelings and wants to spoil Billy rotten. 

It's what most of their fights are about. Billy, for all he's changed, will always be a little bit of a mean asshole. Steve, for all he's changed, will always be a little bit of a preppy jerk. When they both want to be stubborn, they can be terrible to each other, unyielding. 

Back in Hawkins, Steve kept trying to give him things. Books, a jacket when he looked cold, earrings when he confided to having lost his favorite pair, way too many things for Billy's sensitive pride. He kept feeling ambushed, cornered into the last position he wanted. Worst of all, pitied. 

He exploded.

Learned the hard way that's just how Steve knows how to love. Spent two weeks without talking to him until Dustin, of all people, had to show up at his house, Neil's house, now Susan's, and tell him to please put everyone out of their misery. Steve was a cloud of unwashed hair and way too pathetic, and, could he _please, please, just accept Steve's damn presents like someone who's not a huge fucking weirdo (no offense)_. 

Billy could only, very offendedly, close the door on Dustin's face. 

He licked his wounds for another day. Thought about Steve telling him he always felt very alone in his house, never had anyone really, not even his parents, always _had wanted someone to share the little things with, you know?_ And showed up to Family Video decked in all the things he had amassed from his short whatever it was he had going on with Steve. Robin had started singing _Ode to Joy_ , didn't even bat an eyelash at being called a band freak. Told them she was taking her break.

It had been a concession, and he started finding himself doing a lot of those for Steve. Steve, in turn, was more understanding when he met one of Billy's walls. They figured it out, and it mostly worked. Life could be strange like that sometimes. He was alive again, he could try. He missed the beach, he told Steve. Steve said, "alright, let's go then."

-

Thing is, when you start figuring out someone else, there's a catch: they figure you out too. It can be great, life-changing, so good. It can be a nightmare, feel almost like an invasion, so awful. When they got to San Diego and managed to rent their little shoebox of an apartment, Billy felt free. And then he felt lost, afraid, so alone. Called his secret government-appointed therapist more than he liked to admit.

Then, one day Steve ran to get them food and came back with a small furry ball instead. Announced, to anyone interested to hear that "babe, I adopted us a dog!". Billy still can't tell you what emotions passed through his face during the few tense moments where Steve, triumphant, held the dog right in front of Billy's nose. Steve truly couldn't see a problem he didn't try to solve in the most ass backwards way.

He only remembers staring at two pairs of big brown eyes and realizing this is what his life was now, and maybe, just maybe, it would be okay,

The dog, a small auburn poodle mix, reminds Billy of Steve, so she gets named Molly Ringwald to Steve's abject horror. And Billy, surprisingly, feels bit by bit, more human, now that this tiny thing needs to be looked after. Now that he has this little ball of fur to be freely affectionate to, with no second-guessing or agenda. A tiny body to curl up with him when he's off work and Steve isn't home yet. Who doesn't give a shit if he's having a terrible day and doesn't want to take his meds, because she still needs her walk, wants to play, wants to nap in his lap, so excuse me, mister, get your shit together.

Molly is just what they need. She helps Billy let his guard down, relax. Helps Steve fill his higher call as a mother hen with someone other than Billy. Helps them both be more delicate with each other, stop running away when what they want is to meet in the middle. Molly gives them the excuse, at first, and then they just do the job themselves. 

Steve truly can't leave anything alone. Billy loves him.

-

Steve can never fucking leave anything alone. Billy hates him. Feels naked and exposed, feels wrong, and like a freak. The caboodle is like a treasure chest of everything Billy has been eyeing wistfully for months, but would never touch. Everything he could never ever allow himself.

Because, sure, he's a fag, but not _that much_ of a fucking fag. He sighs. Says out loud, "of course you fucking are, and that's not a bad thing," just like his therapist has been telling him to do for months. His first instincts are to be mean and berate himself, and that's fine, as long as he realizes it for what it is and tries his best to change it. It's okay, he's fine, or what the fuck ever. Molly curls up at his feet, and he looks at her, thinking.

Steve had noticed. He knows Billy sometimes wanders off when they're shopping and samples every single beauty product he can get away with. Then pretends he never left to begin with, was just checking a chewy toy for Molly, whatever. Of course, Steve noticed, Steve _knows him_. Goddamn him.

And here's the proof, solid and opening into two levels. There's an eyeshadow palette in the bottom, full of pink and red hues, a few lip glosses in the little top shelf, some Maybelline red lipsticks too. He can't even fault Steve for spending too much when they're flat broke, because it's all cheap stuff, like the scrunchies and band t-shirts Steve keeps saddling him with when he least expects it. The infinite collection of mementos to remind him Steve loves and values him for who he is, what he likes. That he's pretty and delicate, tough and a dickhead too, and wanted, and loved. God. 

It's easy then, to open a lipstick, put it on. It's red, so red. He smiles and feels, what the hell, fucking great. His hands are shaking. He has to look away. Open the eyeshadow palette to distract himself, hide from his own reflection a little bit. Molly remains unbothered, the world won't end because Billy Hargrove feels pretty with lipstick on, imagine that.

"I talked to Max," comes Steve's voice from the doorway, making Billy's soul leave his body, float around their room twice and come back unscathed. Molly jumps as well and leaves the room, offended. Billy gives Steve a _look_ , but Steve only shrugs and continues, "She told me she found the crop tops and then some make-up stuff beneath a loose floorboard, said that's why she called, thought it was important." He smiles at Billy through the mirror, like it costs him nothing to be this good, after finding out about another of Billy's secrets, another thing Billy just couldn't find the courage to share. 

Steve also finds it in himself to look apologetic, for crossing a boundary. Says as much, says he's sorry for figuring out what to look for through Max, instead of just asking. And it figures those brats can still manage to be all up in their business even from miles away. During their weekly calls, Billy is not so much a source of advice as someone who always ends up without another little bit of his dignity. He doesn't really care. Much. Everyone in his life is unbelievable. Mostly he's grateful.

Billy remains silent, inspecting a particularly glittery shadow, experimentally puts some on his eyelid, finds it's good. Steve walks in slowly and comes to stand behind him, circles Billy's waist with his arms. Kisses his shoulder. Says, "you've never been prettier." Billy's eyes are so blue beneath the shadow, it's a wonder, makes him feel desirable in a way he's never experienced before. Didn't know he could ever have.

And here's Steve giving him one more thing, one more piece of the puzzle that makes Billy, one more piece of the puzzle that is Steve and his whims. What they can be when they're together.

-

One day he knows he'll be ready to leave this apartment, the walls that are his refuge, with eyeshadow on his eyes, lipstick on his lips, glitter on his bare chest. He'll shine under the lights because he meant to, and he won't ever feel like hiding any part of himself again. He'll feel good enough to point out the tops he wants at Steve, maybe even risk wearing a heel. The world will be his for the taking. He's going to feel proud.

For now, it's enough to shine right here along with Steve, who's not looking at him any different, except maybe with a different kind of desire, one that Billy craves like any other Steve has to offer. It's enough to feel like he's human, fragile, and _good_. To feel powerful by means other than violence, to feel beautiful. This is some sort of vindication. He gets to live, he gets to have Steve, gets to call Steve _his_. He gets to feel pretty. He gets to kiss Steve with violent affection, get lipstick all over his face and body.

He's alive, he's known, it's enough. It's everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions raised by this fic, were Maybelline lispsticks cheap in the 80s? Who knows! I'm Brazilian and bad at math, so I shall forever live in wonder. Btw, you can find me on [tumblr](https://dragoonthegreat.tumblr.com)


End file.
